


spooky stories

by thishasbeencary



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Fluff, Haunted Houses, M/M, Viktor is an author, Yuuri is a ghost, alternate universe - author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 09:20:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12578560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thishasbeencary/pseuds/thishasbeencary
Summary: There was definitely a ghost in his house, and why wouldn’t his friends just let him try to talk to it? What was the worst that could happen?(Or: Viktor is an author, Yuuri is the ghost that haunts his house and loves his dog. And, of course, Viktor falls in love with the ghost.)





	spooky stories

**Author's Note:**

> did you know that in ancient times, philosophers used to do philosophy in supposedly haunted houses because ghosts like light and writing, so they'd trick the ghosts into coming to them and then ignore them and not be spooked by them, and then be led to where they're buried, burn their bodies, and sell the no longer haunted houses for a profit? the classics are crazy. #ClassicsMajor
> 
> idk i wanted to do something for halloween and when i was listening to the stories about ghosts in mythology class one day, i was just,,, thinking about this au. so i decided it was a good halloween fic.
> 
> look, the title started as a joke, and then i convinced myself to do it.

Viktor Nikiforov had just moved into a new house, to get out of his apartment and into a more dog-friendly neighborhood. He was hoping that the move would also bring him more inspiration for his writing. All of his books were doing just as well as the early ones, but he felt like they were getting worse and worse, and he couldn’t think of nearly enough ideas for this to be his _career_.

The move had been smooth. He’d gotten some friends to help him move the few possessions that he had from the apartment into the house, and then started to pick up more knickknacks and possessions so his house would have a more homely feeling to it.

Everything had been going _perfectly_ until Viktor started to write late at night. Writing the day was killing him, since he had no ideas, and for some reason, the ambiance of nighttime in his new house was perfect for writing. But… writing at night seemed to pull something strange out of his house.

The second that he pulled his laptop out and started to write, it was like there was someone in the room with him. Makkachin started to bark and chase after something invisible before being soothed. She’d lay on the floor with her tongue hanging out of her mouth, relaxing like someone was petting her and giving her all of the attention that Viktor couldn’t while he was writing.

But Viktor still always wanted to write during the night, because it was when his ideas made the most sense, and so he’d sit in his living room by only the light of his laptop. He _knew_ that the light was going to kill his eyes, or whatever, but he’d been fine so far. And this book was giving him so many issues. If something about this house in the dark gave him inspiration to write again, he was going to take it.

Even if that meant that sometimes he heard weird noises and the lights flickered and cold breezes blew and once watched a pile of books topple from his bookshelf when Makkachin had been at his feet, and no one else was in the house. Not only that, but his fan was broken when they had moved him in, and he hadn’t had time to fix it. Sometimes he heard footsteps upstairs as well, as though someone was dancing, and the soft sounds of music that he knew wasn’t playing.

They were all bad omens, he knew that but… something about them wasn’t dangerous. It was like someone was trying to communicate with him, like they were trying to tell him that they were there. Or, it was like Viktor’s house was on bad foundation, and sometimes he left the windows open and forgot about it.

He wasn’t used to living outside of the city, the whisperings and other strange noises and music may be people or animals outside late at night. The footsteps could be shifting of floorboards, since they were always so heavy. The pile of books falling could have been from a particularly strong wind, as could the cold feelings. His power line was exposed, so maybe everyone’s lights flickered. The house wasn’t the newest house in the area, but Viktor had loved it nonetheless.

There were perfectly reasonable explanations for everything that was happening to him, so he didn’t question it. He’d let the books fall and the lights flicker and Makkachin bark, and he’d write.

It was the night that he heard a whispering voice, asking what he was doing, from behind his shoulder that Viktor realized he had to do something about this. Either he was going crazy, or there was a ghost in his house.

He knew so little about ghosts, though, that this hope was hard to confirm. He’d written a book about ghosts a year ago, but he’d based it on his own ideas, rather than pre-existing ghost stories, trying to write something completely unique to what the audience was expecting. If there was a ghost in his house, Viktor had absolutely no idea how to communicate with it, or tell it that he was very interested in its existence and wanted to know more about it.

Wow. Viktor wanted to get to know the ghost.

Then again, knowing Viktor, none of his friends should really be all that surprised. He’d moved to this house alone with his dog because he’d wanted something that could maybe bring better stories, since he found that his current novels were starting to get repetitive and boring. He wanted to surprise his readers again. How many sequels and prequels could he write before they all abandoned him for different authors, and better stories? The number was feeling painfully low.

So, one night when his friends were over for dinner, Viktor decided to bring it up. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time that he asked them hypothetical questions about strange creatures – though usually there wasn’t a direct impact on the rest of his life. Usually, Viktor was asking because he wanted to write a book about some creature, and wanted his friends to have some input in how he interpreted the stories.

Not so much this time. He was sitting around his table with Chris, Mila, and Yuri. He’d met Chris and Mila at school, and they remained close, and Yuri was a younger cousin. They were finishing dinner, and Yuri was continuously checking his phone for new messages from his ride, since he needed to get back home earlier than the rest since he was still in school. It seemed like a good time to bring up his current problem.

“So, in theory, how would you summon a ghost?” Viktor asked, trying to pretend to be casual. He had the feeling that it wasn’t working, though. Even when he _was_ just asking about his books, his friends always seemed confused about his new ideas. This one… yeah. This conversation was probably not going to go well. Especially considering he’d put out a book about ghosts only a year ago, and so writing _another_ ghost story… well, it was very out of character for Viktor. He liked to jump between new ideas and try out new genres, not get stuck in a single type.

“Is this for a new book? I thought you’d just written one about ghosts, Vitya!” Mila said with a laugh, though she shrugged. “Don’t you have to recite a spell or something?”

“That’s _demons_ ,” Yuri retorted, rolling his eyes at her. “Ghosts, you have to talk to them. With like a Ouija board, right? Movies always do Ouija boards, but you talk to them. Ask them where they’re at, and who they are, and if they want to kill you.”

“I don’t think he wants to kill me,” Viktor mused, and all three of his friends looked at him, various looks of concern on their faces.

“Vitya, why are you asking us how to talk to ghosts?” Chris asked, setting his pizza down to instead look at Viktor.

“For a book – “

“Clearly, it’s not for a book,” Mila said, raising her eyebrows. “Vitya, you said that he didn’t want to kill you. What are you talking about? You’re trying to talk to a real ghost?”

“I think there’s a ghost in my house,” he started to explain, quickly moving on so none of them could interrupt him, “Some nights, when I’m alone, weird things happen. Makkachin goes crazy, and then sits still like she was doing nothing wrong. Things move or rattle when there’s no breeze because my fan’s still broken. Last night, I think someone was talking to me. It’s always while I’m writing. I think they’re trying to talk to me.”

“And… you want to talk to it?” Mila sounded unimpressed, maybe even worried about Viktor’s conclusions.

“Well, what if – “ Viktor started, but was not allowed to finish at all.

“ _Please_ don’t tell me you were about to say ‘what if it’s a nice ghost,” Yuri cut in before Viktor could finish the sentence, pointing an accusing finger at the other man. Viktor started to defend himself, and Yuri threw his hands up. “Seriously!? You decide your house is haunted and you want to _talk to the ghost_. This isn’t one of your books, Vitya. Talking to a real ghost will get you killed.”

“But what if it’s a nice ghost,” Viktor said anyway, looking at Chris instead of Yuri. Chris didn’t look convinced either.

“Vitya, look, I don’t even trust that there is a ghost in your house, but you want to… talk to it? I mean, I kinda agree with Yuri, that sounds like a bad idea. Why would it be haunting if it… you know… wanted to talk?” Chris asked.

Viktor felt betrayed. There was definitely a ghost in his house, and why wouldn’t his friends just let him try to talk to it? What was the worst that could happen?

“You’re going to get yourself killed by a _ghost_ , and I’m not going to feel sorry for you. This is your own dumb fault. Yakov’s here.” Yuri stood up, grabbing his backpack off of the floor. “Hope you don’t die so you can still edit my essays, Vitya.”

“Ahh, I think he’s worried about you!” Chris laughed as soon as Yuri was actually out the door (and couldn’t hear him), but then he fixed his friend with a more concerned look. “I don’t trust this. If you _are_ going to talk to the ghost, please don’t do it alone?”

“I just want to talk to him! I’ll get salt, or whatever. Salt keeps ghosts away.” Viktor had looked it up when he realized that he wanted to try to talk to the ghost that was haunting his house.

“So you’re going to summon the ghost in your house, try to talk to it, and keep it away with _salt?_ Vitya, come on, you have to understand why we think that’s an awful idea.” Chris laid a hand on Viktor’s shoulder, and Viktor sank into his couch, moping.

“Vitya, please, just focus on your writing. I don’t trust this whole ghost business. It’s probably just that this house is old. Call up someone to get it checked out. I’m sure this is all nothing. Don’t summon a ghost that might not even exist, because if it does exist, you’re going to get yourself hurt,” Mila said, and Viktor sighed.

Fine. His friends didn’t trust him. That was _fine._ “If someone comes, and there’s nothing wrong with the house, will you try to talk to the ghost with me?”

“If there’s absolutely nothing wrong with your house, then we’ll try to communicate with your ghost,” Chris agreed, and Viktor knew that he had to concede. He couldn’t keep fighting with his friends about this.

They both left shortly after, and Viktor sat on his couch, pulling out his laptop and glaring at his document.

Writing wasn’t going to go well tonight, but he was going to try. Just like Chris and Mila had said, focusing on his story and nothing else.

He hadn’t _meant_ to summon the ghost. His story was finally taking shape – a dancer fallen out of graces with her old company and finding a new mentor who would lead her to great places. He was making good progress on it when Makkachin started to bark and –

Viktor scrambled up onto his couch with wide eyes. Something was sitting on the floor with Makkachin. _Someone_.

“Shh,” whoever it was whispered, scratching his fingers in Makkachin’s fur. “It’s just me, you know me. I’m here every day. Shh.” The lights started to flicker as the man’s form disappeared for a second, and then reappeared, and Viktor dropped his laptop. This was the ghost.

The man looked up with wide eyes, a strong breeze going through Viktor’s house, knocking over stacks of papers as the ghost jumped to his feet, causing Makkachin to start a barking fit again. “You can see me?” He looked terrified, and Viktor slowly stepped down from the couch.

This was a bad idea. He was going to get killed. Fine, he should have listened to his friends. He shouldn’t have tried to talked to the ghost. He should have known better.

He swallowed, picking up his laptop and slowly nodding his head. “Do… are you… Um. You come here every night?”

“I… see the light from your laptop, and hear the words,” the ghost said, still wide eyed, though relaxing as Viktor did. “I… just end up here. You’ve never seen me before.”

“I… wanted to talk to you. I thought someone was here, but my friends thought I was crazy.” Viktor was talking to a ghost. Maybe if he survived this, he’d get to talk to the ghost _again_. Maybe he should go through Yuri’s questions. “What’s your name? Where are you from?” He paused, wondering if he should ask the third. Would the ghost answer honestly? “Are you going to kill me?”

The ghost’s eyes widened at the questions, especially the last. “I’m Yuuri Katsuki. I lived here, before you bought the house, but I guess I’m from Japan if you want… that specific. Before I came here. But that wasn’t that long ago. I don’t think. I don’t know what year it is.” His form flickered again with the lights, but he managed to regain his focus, looking at Viktor. “I’m… not going to kill you.”

“Yuuri,” Viktor repeated, breathing out with the last answer, because… well, even if the ghost wasn’t telling the truth, that was fine. “I’m glad to meet you. I’m Viktor. Unless you’ve already figured that out.” He reached out a hand, and Yuuri avoided it.

“I can still hear, even when I’m invisible. Usually during the day, too. So I picked up your name. But I’m glad I’m finally actually talking to you, Viktor.” Viktor couldn’t imagine how lonely an existence being a ghost was. It sounded miserable. “I can barely stay visible,” he explained, blushing, “so I can’t imagine being able to touch you. It’s better… not to try.”

“I could try to teach you!” Viktor exclaimed, jumping up, grinning at Yuuri. “We can work on you staying visible, and then maybe you’ll be able to touch things, too! Things… like… me. Since you can touch Makkachin, and my papers already?”

“I think it’s because they’re different,” Yuuri answered. “I’ve… tried to touch your shoulder before, to tell you that I’m here, but I go right through. If I think about it enough, I can touch anything else. I think it’s because… I was human. So I can’t get myself to touch them.” And then her raised his eyebrows. “You want to teach me? How would you know?”

“I have no idea. But I could look online, and then I can be your test subject! Since I was how you found out whether you were visible and tangible anyway, that makes sense, right? We just get to figure it out together! Do you want to?” Viktor _really_ wanted to talk to Yuuri again after this.

“I… we can try.” Yuuri’s face lit up. Viktor understood. It meant that they could talk more, which meant that maybe Yuuri wouldn’t be so lonely, wandering his house, unseen and unknown.

“Perfect! So… what do you know about yourself?” Viktor needed to know more about the ghost in his house, he needed to know everything.

“Um… like…?” Yuuri looked nervous, and Viktor blinked.

“Oh! Just the ghost stuff. Or who you are, if you want to share,” he explained. He’d love to know everything about Yuuri, but he hoped they’d have more nights for that.

“Well. When I’m frustrated, the lights flicker and I can’t focus on anything and sort of… spread out. You kept complaining it was cold when I did that. Makkachin was terrified of me the first time that she saw me, but after I realized I could touch her, she calmed down every time I pet her, even if she freaked out at first. Dogs and ghosts, I guess. Um. I… dance… in your empty room sometimes? When I was… alive, I was part of a ballet company.”

“Oh!” Every single thing that Yuuri said made more and more of the bad omens that Viktor had been experiencing make sense. And they’d all been this shy and amazing ghost. How great was that?

“You’re… not scared of me?” Yuuri questioned quietly, looking up to meet Viktor’s eyes, as his form faded a little again, this time not matched with any flickering.

“I’m not! My friends were worried you might be trying to kill me, but you… don’t seem to be.” At all. Yuuri was _amazing_. He was so kind, and he was going to see Viktor again.

“I’m… thank you for trusting in me. Even when you didn’t know me.” Yuuri smiled brightly at Viktor, but then looked down at himself and frowned. “I… can’t seem to hold any form when it’s light. A little bit of light tethers me, but a lot… I can’t stand a lot of light,” Yuuri explained his quickly fading form.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Viktor questioned, grinning at Yuuri, who ducked his head down shyly. A _shy ghost_.

“Yeah. I’ll look for your laptop.” Yuuri smiled at Viktor, and walked down the halls of his house, through the wall to the back, and disappeared.

He reappeared the next day.

And every day after that.

They realized more about Yuuri as nights went by. His struggle to remain visible became less, but he still couldn’t always remain with a physical sense to his form. Viktor often reached out to touch Yuuri, and his hand went directly through him, to the disappointment of both of them. The first time that he made physical contact with Yuuri’s form, cupping his chin to make him look up at him, Yuuri had scrambled away and disappeared for the rest of the night.

As Viktor had more and more nightly conversations with Yuuri, he realized how much he really enjoyed his presence. Yuuri was brilliant, and so beautiful. He’d sit on the couch with Viktor and read over his shoulder, pointing out phrases that would make sense in a different place in the story. He’d disappear for a few hours, and Viktor would hear his feet beating against the ceiling as he danced, quiet music drifting down from the empty spaces upstairs.

It was the time that Yuuri danced for him that Viktor realized that things were much different than he’d known before. He wasn’t just obsessed with the ghost that lived in his house, he didn’t just want to be friends. He wanted something _more_ , and he already had the feelings necessary for it.

Were you _allowed_ to fall in love with a ghost?

Oh well. It was too late for Viktor not to. Yuuri’s dancing was ethereal, and not just in the sense that sometimes Yuuri faded away with his spins and jumps, but in the sense that it was the most beautiful thing that Viktor had ever seen. Suddenly, the urge to write a story about a beautiful dancer made sense, because Viktor must have sensed who was living with him.

As his dancing took place, the normal jeans and t-shirt that he wore faded into a beautiful blue and purple costume, something he must have worn in his ballets. The costume seemed to sparkle in the near darkness of the house, but Viktor wouldn’t dare turn on another light to see it in more detail, not when Yuuri was so beautiful in front of him. His eyes were fixed only on Yuuri, and even as he struggled to see him sometimes, not at all this time.

Even when his form faded throughout the dance, there was a sense of _light_ emitting from him, like Yuuri was doing something that he was meant to do. He’d never been more beautiful, and Viktor was entranced.

Yuuri Katsuki was a name that everyone would have known if he had lived longer. Viktor sat on his couch, eyes wide as Yuuri completed complicated movements, twirling his body in a final motion to reach out to Viktor, his chest rising and falling heavily with breaths that Yuuri didn’t have to take.

Viktor was on his feet without realizing it, walking toward Yuuri to hear him whisper, “That was the last program I ever performed. I… hope I still did it well.”

Viktor looked up at Yuuri, meeting his shy and happy smile and leaned forward, grabbing onto Yuuri in a rare moment of corporality and kissing him.

“You did,” Viktor answered, and Yuuri laughed, kissing him again and again until he had to fade away.

Viktor stood in the living room for a while longer, his hand pressed over his heart as it threatened to explode with the love that he was feeling right now.

“Yuuri?” Viktor knew that he could hear him, even when he faded, and the brush of cold across his still-extended hand was enough to know that Yuuri was there. “I love you.”

The lights flickered and turned off for a minute, coming back on too bright and excited. Viktor knew what it meant. He smiled, grabbing his laptop and sitting back down, finishing his book and reading the first few pages.

Yeah.

This was going to be a good one.

But…

How was he supposed to explain to his friends that he’d fallen in love with the ghost in his house?

**Author's Note:**

> happy halloween!! <3 stay spooky. and safe from ghosts. don't trust viktor's ghost advice. don't fall in love with the ghosts in your basement. you should probably get those checked out. if you're gonna trust pliny, hire a philosopher for it.
> 
> [here is my blog!!!](http://yoyoplisetsky.tumblr.com/) come follow me!! send me prompts? or just talk to me? <3
> 
> kudos/comments/bookmarks are always and forever appreciated <3 ty so much for reading/your support!!


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